


umm

by saretus



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Anal Sex, Deepthroating, Other, Rape/Non-con Elements, Tentacle Sex, i can't believe im finally using that tag lkjasf
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-08
Updated: 2019-08-08
Packaged: 2020-08-11 22:14:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20160946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saretus/pseuds/saretus
Summary: An unfinished fill for: 'Any monster kidnaps Noct and takes him as its mate.'





	umm

**Author's Note:**

> Edit: found the [prompt](https://ffxv-kinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/5690.html?thread=11347514#cmt11347514)! Will remain unfinished, unfortunately. Or maybe I'll pick it up sometime in the future, but right now it'll stay unfinished.
> 
> At the very least I finished a smut scene so... enjoy!
> 
> Also, 'umm', for lack of a better title.

Mindflayers are scary to see up close.

Not that Noct _wanted_ to be this close but, gods, he’s exhausted now after attempting to get away from the thing for the umpteenth time. He’s fairly certain they’re in a cave just outside of Insomnia and he’s also certain his father’s already sent a search party out for him.

Noct only hopes they _find_ him on time. The mindflayer hasn’t done anything yet, more-so hovering before him, that creepy gaze observing him in the dim light of a fast-setting sun. Noct’s trying not to freak out. It’s not really working.

“What the hell’re you looking at?” Noct mutters, finally pushing past his fear simply because it’s taking _so long_ for this mindflayer to hurt him. Or, well, whatever it plans to do to him. “Just get it over with.”

The mindflayer’s head… thing tilts, as if it’s considering his question. Noct scowls at it and tries to use his magic again. Nothing. Gods, what the hell is wrong with it?

After another few minutes of the mindflayer doing absolutely nothing, Noct finally decides to stand. He can’t access his weapons, he can’t warp away, so he may as well run for it. He takes a step to the side. The mindflayer follows his movements. Gulping, Noct takes another step, ready to make a break for it, but the mindflayer suddenly descends upon him with frightening speed.

Noct decides that he didn’t yell in sheer terror when those slimy, _disgusting_ tentacles slide over his arms. He’s kicking out on reflex, trying to shove away the mindflayer but for some reason it’s suddenly going wild and Noct can _feel_ it’s body wriggling all over him. His head’s free, but the light’s gotten so dull that he can’t make out anything. He can _breathe_ though, that’s a start, and he tries to calm down enough to try getting free from this monster.

Right now, the thing’s appendages are slipping tighter and tighter around his midriff. He feels a sudden wave of panic. What if it keeps squeezing? Crushes his lungs and leaves him to die? It’s a cold chill of foreboding and he thrashes harder than before.

Still, it seems to be a losing battle. The mindflayer’s stronger. Noct’s pretty sure, when educated about all these different daemons in the world outside of Insomnia, that mindflayers were one of the things to avoid since Noct wasn’t powerful enough to deal with them.

Yeah, he’s getting a big lesson on that right now.

“Get off!” Noct yells, and he doesn’t care how high-pitched his voice has become. He’s _terrified_. He doesn’t want any part of this. He feels his back ache in reminder of the last daemon that got it’s hands on him. With that thought, he feels a wave of despair. No one’s coming for him. At least, they won’t be able to find him in time. He’ll die here with no one around and his dad’ll be so worried, Iggy’ll be tearing down the forest looking for him, Gladio would be snapping at everyone, Prompto would feel lonely…

Noct starts to feel tired. He’s overexerted himself. He’d been struggling the entire way here after all. The mindflayer’s tentacles shift to cover his body in it’s entirety and he can barely move an inch.

“J-just get it over with…” Noct whispers. He can’t see anything but he closes his eyes anything. It’s wet and disgusting inside this sleeve of tentacles and, gods, he can feel the muck underneath his palms, under his nails.

Suddenly, the mindflayer stills.

It doesn’t let go of him. Instead, he feels something else around his… his _midsection_. There’s—it feels like tinier tentacles, wrigglier ones that has his shouting in surprise when they press against his thigh. He squirms, trying to escape, and the mindflayer starts to move again.

Or, at least, it’s tentacles start to move. Noct feels his heart pounding. He can’t help his rapid breaths. Gods, are the tentacles starting to go—go _under_ his clothes? He can only feel the sliminess on the parts of his body where his clothes don’t cover, but now he feels the oozing, strangely warm presence of a tentacle slipping across his shoulder and down his shirt.

“Hey, kn-knock it off!” Noct tries to struggle again but there’s not use. The tentacles may as well be _iron_ with the force it’s currently holding Noct in. The tentacle travels down his pecs, his stomach, _over his dick_, and makes its disgusting way towards his outer right thigh. It manoeuvres it’s way out of his trouser leg and Noct thinks, for a moment, that the mindflayer is done with whatever it’s doing, but he’s wrong.

There’s a swift motion of cloth ripping, shredding, and Noct lets out an unintentional cry when his clothes are swiftly torn from his body, stubborn seams digging at his back, his leg, his arm, before they finally tear. Noct feels freedom for just a moment—a loosening of the tentacles around him—and he tries immediately to kick himself free but the tentacles speedily wrap themselves around him, and he makes a noise of disgust feeling how slimy and _sticky_ it all is. He can _feel_ the suckers of those things just rubbing over his skin and he squirms, trying not to vomit.

“What the fuck—!” Noct snarls, but he feels a sudden motion, like the mindflayer is raising into the air. He feels a jolt of panic, then something equally slimy sliding over the back of his head to the top of it. The cavity where all the tentacles are joined? Noct feels a sudden rush of adrenaline and tries to push his way through the wall of rigid flesh. No way—no _fucking_ way is he gonna be eaten—!

He feels the mindflayer shift over him. The membrane descends over his forehead and Noct briefly panics about the possibility of being unable to breathe. But then—the mindflayer stops again. Shorter tentacles come sliding down his forehead, then eyelid, thick and heavy and just _wet_. Thankfully, it avoids his noise but the weird fucking tip of it suddenly starts to poke at his mouth.

“Fuck off,” Noct snaps out in sudden realization. This thing can’t seriously want to—to have _sex_ with him, can it? Yet opening his mouth was a lapse in judgement. The tentacle suddenly slithers in and Noct chokes as it presses down immediately on his tongue. The appendage is just as thick and heavy and wet as it feels and Noct can’t identify the taste. He doesn’t _want_ to. He doesn’t want any of this, he doesn’t want to be fucked by a _mindflayer_—

It starts thrusting and Noct makes a noise of protest. He tries to struggle again, tries to bite down on the flesh in his mouth, but it’s too thick to be penetrated with his teeth. It continues it’s agonizing crawl further into his mouth, drawing choking noises from Noct, and he thrashes at how deep it’s starting to go. He doesn’t want to think about that. He just wants to breathe but he _can’t_.

His throat convulses, he tries to take a breath, another, feels his eyes rolling up from the pressure—

The tentacle slowly pulls out again and Noct’s left gasping, mouth gaping wide around the tentacle as it withdraws but doesn’t fully leave. It’s fine, though, so long as Noct can _breathe_. He feels saliva dripping from his mouth, adding to the mess of wetness on his chin. He squirms, trying to regain his breath, but the tentacle starts to push into his mouth to begin the process again.

It pushes. He chokes, writhing weakly, and it only pushes further. He feels his throat distend and his eyes roll back again from the lack of air. He tries not to pay attention to the texture of it in his mouth. His hands grasp at the thick, bulbous-ridden membrane he’s encased in, but he can’t get a grasp on anything.

The tentacle withdraws.

He gags and gasps, head hanging, mouth still impaled on the tentacle. He tries to withdraw his head from it but the tentacle follows, just staying inches inside his mouth, when he pulls his head back. He tries saying something, but the tentacle suddenly thrusts into his mouth again, faster this time, and Noct chokes and groans on it.

It’s starting a steady pace now. Noct’s watched enough porn to know that it’s fucking his mouth. It’s _gross_ and he hates it, he wants to get out, where the _hell_ is everyone? Why haven’t any members of the Crownsguard found him yet?

It carries on longer than it feels like it does. By then, Noct’s learned to try breathing through his nose up until the last possible second when he can’t. He let’s himself hang there, helpless, mouth violated by a tentacle that’s starting to go faster and faster, wringing choked noises from him every time.

Suddenly, the appendage tenses and Noct stiffens knowing where this is going. The tentacle feels like it’s throbbing in his mouth when suddenly liquid is shot into his mouth.

Noct gags on it, trying to breath but has to swallow it before he starts to truly choke on it. It doesn’t taste like anything, only like a thick cream, and he immediately wants to vomit it back out. He feels the viscuous liquid run down his chin, heavy and thick, and the tentacle lays firmly in his mouth until he’s swallowed it all.

Finally, the tentacle slips out, and Noct hangs his head, exhausted and helpless and distressed.

“Fuck you…” he gasps out. His head hurts. His mind’s running a mile per second. He just wants this nightmare to end.

He passes out.

* * *

He wakes up hard.

He feels hot. Sweaty. He feels wet, too, and it takes a moment for him to realise he’s still trapped inside the mindflayers embrace. He struggles again, weaker, but there’s no change. He doesn’t know how long he was out, but he knows he’s actually _hard_ and that—that _something_ is wrapped around his dick, already stroking it.

It takes him a moment to realise that he’s thrusting his hips forward and moaning.

Breathy, helpless. His body is far ahead of him. The sensations filter into his system: the delicious, wet friction of something curled around his dick and rubbing back and forth. Another tentacle slowly cupping his chin and lips. His own body responding to the pleasure eagerly, squirming and rocking into the tightness that the mindflayer offers.

It’s sick. It’s _wrong_.

“Nnah—!” Noct jerks, eyes rolling to the back of his head when one stroke feels strangely more pleasurable. Then, gods, it keeps _going_ and he starts to jerk and twitch with each motion, his mind slowly being taken over by the pleasure. He tries to struggle, but there’s a heat rising in his belly, in his entire body. It’s unnatural, he knows, but he doesn’t care. Does he? Gods, the thing wrapped around his dick shouldn’t stop. It can’t, it’s so good, so good—

He doesn’t realize he’s muttering it aloud until he starts crying out in pleasure.

“Oh, fuck, please—please please please—!”

It’s feels so good. He didn’t think just stroking his dick could feel this good. His rocks his hips back and forth wildly, trying to gain more of the friction, and then he’s coming hard with a shout. His hips jerk as the thing keeps stroking him through the aftershocks. His mouth gapes and he pants hard, trying to gain his bearings again.

What the fuck was that? Shit, he shouldn’t have been egging it on, he shouldn’t even be _here_. This is wrong, this is so wrong—

He realizes, suddenly, that something’s stroking his asshole.

He jolts in surprise when something that feels like a small tentacle enters his hole. His eyes widen and he immediately tries thrashing to get out.

“No, not there, please…!” He can’t help the whimper in his tone. It’ll hurt. He knows it will. The mindflayer will probably shred his ass open because it’s not human, it doesn’t just _do_ that with preparation, and Noct’s never had anyone penetrate him before, let alone penetrate someone. Shit, this is not how he wanted things to go. He doesn’t want to be here.

The tentacle travels further into him. He can _feel_ it. It’s wriggling, and that feels _weird_, but Noct waits for the inevitable pain where a larger tentacle comes in.

It never comes. Instead, he feels a spark of pleasure as the tentacle inside him hit something. He lets out a gasp of surprise, then a strangled moan when the pressure is given again, and again, then again—

He’s gasping again before he knows it. The small thing’s thrusting into him, aiming specifically for that spot, and Noct twists and gasps in it’s grip. His mouth hangs open, his mind blurs once more, and his hips shift back onto the thing.

“Oh, _fuck_, oh, gods—! Nn—_nn_—_ah_—!”

Helpless moans and cries escape him. His muddled brain can’t even comprehend that something’s stroking his dick again as well. His body jerks and shudders and starts to tremble hard. He feels his thighs twitch and shake. He can’t close his mouth, unable to stop the moans that escape him. It feels so good, so much better than before—

He comes with a sharp cry, entire body shuddering and thrusting forward helplessly. His dick hurts but his body still feels so hot, so needy. Was there something in whatever this thing ejaculated into his mouth before? The pleasured high starts to fade again, and he feels shame creep into him.

He can still feel that small tentacle up his ass. It’s still wriggling a little, jarring Noct occasionally with shots of pleasure, and he can feel the slickness around it. It feels _itchy_, almost, like he… like he _needs_ something else and, fuck, what the hell is this thing doing to him?

Then that small tentacle starts to press deliberately on his spot again, going at a steady rhythm, and he _knows_ his dick should be hurting from not one, but two orgasms, but he feels as hard as he was before.

He moans weakly, head sagging forward. The tentacle keeps going and his eyes roll as a dry orgasm overtakes him suddenly, his body automatically rocking forward and back at the feeling.

“Gods…” he breathes out, and jerks when he feels a large pressure at the entrance to his ass. It’s bigger than the smaller tentacle. He feels a cold sweat all of a sudden and shakes his head a little wildly.

“No, no, you can’t…!” he whispers, because the difference in the small tentacle and the bigger one was enough to tell that the latter would hurt going in. He can feel the slickness that the smaller one is exuding but, gods, he doesn’t think he’s ready for more. He can’t, he really can’t—

He gives a quiet whimper when it starts to push. He tries to relax, because he knows this thing doesn’t have the intelligence to stop and he doesn’t have the strength to fight back right now. He squeezes his eyes shut as it slowly inches in, and prays that he won’t tear.

One inch goes in at an aching pace. Then another. His back arches at the intrusion and he starts to breath rapidly, trying to calm down but failing. It could hurt him. It could hurt him really badly—

But the tentacle keeps going in. And in. And in. Noct gasps and shifts weakly at the discomfort, but pauses as the fear of provoking the mindflayer strikes him. However, it reaches that sweet spot almost gently, pausing there.

His ass burns at the stretch, but he doesn’t think he’s torn. Thank the fucking gods.

He experimentally clenches. Okay. As long as the thing doesn’t move anytime soon he should be fine.

It doesn’t move, surprisingly. It doesn’t move for so long that Noct slumps again, getting bored. The ache in his ass has died down and now all he has is the uncomfortable feeling of a tentacle up his ass.

Shit. That sounds so weird and gross but… he’s probably had a better time here climaxing than he has by himself. That’s the only good thing about this.

Just when he thinks he might drift to sleep again, the tentacle suddenly moves. It’s a shallow thrust, a quick one, but it strikes his prostate dead on that he can’t help a sudden shout of surprised pleasure. It doesn’t stop there, either—the tentacle starts to pulse into him, jabbing at his sweet spot, and Noct twists and yells.

“_Ahh_—! _Oh_—_mm_—!”

It keeps going. His eyes widen in the darkness at the sudden onslaught of pleasure and he starts to writhe, yelling with each thrust and unable to help the garbled moans and gasps that accompany it.

“_Yes_, fuck, _oh_—please, please—!”

His hands claw at the thick membrane surrounding them, his body unable to move, prone and helpless as it just starts fucking without abandon into him. He tries shoving his hips back and forth, hardly succeeds, but gods he can feel it, the thickness rocking inside him, thrusting deep, so deep and long and _fast_, his body on _fire_ with the pleasure now. He gapes, eyes rolling to the back of his skull, and something takes a hold of his dick again and starts stroking.

He’s going to die. He’s actually going to die from pleasure. It’s burning through his body and his head almost hurts from how hard his eyes roll up. He’s trying to move, he can’t, it’s so much, _too_ much—

He comes hard, body convulsing with the force of it, but he dimly knows not even his spasming breaks the iron grip on his body. He gives a garbled yell of pleasure, something crossed between a scream and a whine, and he writhes uncontrollably as the thing thrusts into him through his orgasm.

For the second time, he passes out.


End file.
